BDSM Beatles
by Ringo's Twin Brother
Summary: What happens when no one gives Ringo a jack? Ringo starts to grow a new obsession... and it involves rope and Ringo tries it on his band mates. Not ATU. Read and Review, please.
1. Prologue

**Summary** : What happens when no one gives Ringo a jack? Ringo starts to grow a new obsession... and it involves rope and Ringo tries it on his band mates.

**Rating** : K and up for comedy, bondage, a bit of slash, and mysterious red apples...

**Pairings** : Dominant!Ringo/John, Dominant!Ringo/Paul, and Dominant!Ringo/George.

_The room was dark. Dark as the pitch black night as George walked in. He knew he was up in the attic._

''Hello?'' George called out into the room. ''Is there anyone in here?''

George walked in as he looked around. He could have sworn he heard someone up here. Could he be hearing things?

''Hello?'' he called out again. ''Ringo? Are you up here?'' George may have heard Ringo being up here. He and George were the only ones in the house. It could have been Ringo.

_If Ringo was, what could Ringo be rummaging up here for? There's nothing but dust and old furniture. The room was truly filled with it; on both George's sides, there were rows of drawers with broken boxes. With blankets of dust on them. In front, was a large dusty mirror._

But in front of the mirror, was a small table with an odd-looking box. The box looked like it shouldn't be there.

''What's that?'' George pondered, walking closer. Judging from the small light out in the hallway, the box looked a bit new. It was black like a regular briefcase, only without a handle.

The floorboards creaked and cracked with every step George took.

''What is this?'' George whispered, putting his eyes on the box. George was so curious to know what was in this box. What could it be? Could someone in the house probably put this here? If someone did, why?

So anxious to know what is inside of this box, George slowly set out his hand, going slowly to the edge of the box.

Creeeaaaak...

Went the box as George lifted up the side, really slowly...

George's eyes blinked rapidly, with eyes widening. Just what the hell is in this box?!

The side was pulled up.

_''Hm?'' George pondered in his head. What is in this box?_

On the inside of the side's top which George was holding onto, a folded piece of parchment fell.

George's eyes went for the folded piece. Setting the lifted side up, George took the parchment and unfolded it. He read the lines on the on the paper, but whispered it out loud.

Rubber Ball Gag.

The perfect mouth-muting device for your victims.

Step One :

(Note : Make sure your victim is well bound before setting this device on.)

Place the rubber gag in a straight line under the mouth of your victim.

Step Two :

Place the ball part into the mouth, this may be hard at first, since your victim may struggle to get free.

_Step Three :_

Now, pull the straps of the gag around your victim's head. With this done, tie the straps together with the latch.

You're done!

''What?'' George exclaimed lightly. He set the paper with the instructions down on the table. He looked at the items occupying the box.

There were three black, long straps... and in the middle of each, there looked like red little balls stitched on.

''What the hell?'' George said, furrowing his brows.

On each right side of the black straps, there were some writings that looked like letters in white.

With questioning eyes, George looked closer on the letters stitched to the straps.

It looked like...

John...

Paul...

George...

_George's eyes widened. Someone... was targeting them. But who? George knew, it had to be someone in this house doing it._

But George didn't want to know who. He looked up from the box, looked at the dust stained mirror... but on it... He was taken aback by the reflection of...

Ringo.

George gasped. He twirled around, to see Ringo standing in front of him.

Ringo was not was happy, nor he was upset. He just stood there, with his icy blue eyes staring at George. He was smiling lightly... but with a cold and chilling smile of a mad man.

''Well, well, what do we have here?'' Ringo chided.

''Ringo...?!'' George stammered, with sweat already dripping down and eyes widening.

''It looks like you found my little secret.'' Ringo huffed. Ringo was clad in all black; to a strange looking looking coat over his body and trousers. In Ringo's left hand, was a coil of rope and wire. On the right, was a mask hanging on his wrist, while his fingers gripped a blood red apple.

''Ringo?!'' George said, loud. ''What is the meaning of this?!''

_''Oh, there's no meaning Georgie.'' Ringo chided. ''It's just that what is behind you...'' Ringo referred to the rubber ball gags behind George. ''...is part of what I have done so far.''_

''What have you done?!'' George asked, frowning.

''Oh, I tied up some loose ends on John and Paul. I was going to do the same to you when you weren't looking... but, it looks like you spoiled the surprise.'' Ringo said, yet sweetly and innocently.

''You're crazy! I'm telling Brian about this!'' George hissed at him.

''I don't think so!''

''What do you mean?!''

Ringo chuckled. He dropped the apple from his hand, which fell to the floor unharmed. From his strange coat, he produced a small gun and pointed it at George.

George's eyes widened. ''What are you doing?! Don't point that thing at me!''

Ringo chuckled. ''Too bad!'' Before George could run, Ringo pulled the trigger...

And a choke from George was heard, as a dart filled with an odd substance, grazed into his shoulder. George fell to the ground, screaming lightly, as he held his dart-wounded shoulder.

_All around in George's body, all of his limbs growing numb and limp. He tried to keep himself awake, but it was no use._

The last thing George saw, was Ringo chuckle as he walked towards him.

''Nighty-night. Georgie.''

* * *

_I hoped you all liked the first chapter... or prologue. However you want to call it. For some odd reason, I like to see Ringo as the dominant partner sometimes. This story might make some characters out of character. Don't worry, nothing will happen to George... yet. This is only the beginning. _

_Read and Review, please._

_Peace. _


	2. Chapter One

_First Chapter of BDSM Beatles_

It was a shining day as short, blue eyed Ringo Starr pulled out a piping hot apple pie from the oven. The drummer was in the kitchen, wearing a pristine apron with red oven mitts. Ringo was happy at this time, he just finished creating a sweet looking apple pie he'd been making for the past hour.

Ringo giggled as set the pie on a place mat on the table. The pastry was steaming with fresh scents of cinnamon as Ringo skipped out to the living room.

''Lads! It's time for dessert!'' He chirped.

The lads; John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison were in the living room doing their own things. John was too busy watching the black-and-white television, Paul was on the phone, having a rather sassy talk with someone, and lastly George was just snoring away on the couch next to John.

''Lads?'' Ringo called out again, the first time they didn't hear him.

''Hahahaha...'' John laughed, pointing at the TV. The person on the screen had just gotten hit on the head with an anvil.

''I want the manicure and pedicure done on Friday...'' Paul said into the phone.

With a silent response, Paul grew wide eyed and a tad furious. ''...Friday!''

Heavy snoring was all that was heard from George. In his mind, he was chasing a sandwich wearing a bow tie and top hat.

By now, Ringo was a bit outraged. He simply walked into the kitchen. From the cupboard, he pulled out a large pan with a metal spoon inside of it.

Ringo walked out of the kitchen again, he stopped behind George and...

BANG!

Ringo had placed the pan over George's sleeping head and with his skills as drummer, banged on the pan, hard, with his metal spoon.

George was immediately taken aback. Not only him, John was alarmed and Paul nearly dropped the phone in mass shock.

''What the 'ell?'' George said, taken aback to the side by Ringo.

''What was that all 'bout?'' John asked, looking at Ringo.

Ringo huffed. ''Just so yeh' know, the apple pie I've been making is ready. But you three were in your happy wonderlands, you think you can leave little Ringo behind.''

''Well sorry, Rings.'' John apologized. ''I was too busy watching the telly.''

''And I was too busy scheduling my manicure.'' Paul whined, slightly. ''Just look at me' nails!'' Paul whined again, showing his nails.

''Ugh, you whiny sissies...'' Ringo turned around. But when he did, he gaped open wide... to see nothing but an empty pie tin with tiny crumbs. Ringo dropped the two utensils to the ground, hearing a loud clank.

Ringo screamed at the top of his lungs.

''Oh geez, Rings!'' John complained, turning to Ringo.

''My...my...my...'' Ringo stammered as he walked out of the kitchen, holding the empty pie tin in his hands. ''My apple pie... it's gone... Who... WHO DID THIS?!''

It remained silent, Ringo was growing impatient.

A loud belch was heard from George, reclining on the couch, holding his stomach.

Ringo looked at George from behind, mouth still agape. ''You... you... ate my apple pie...''

''Hm? What?'' George turned to Ringo. ''Oh... the pie, yes. It was very delicious Ringo.'' George smiled, turning back and falling back to sleep.

Ringo did nothing... but faint to the ground.

John turned around, taking a look at Ringo. The poor drummer was sprawled on the ground, laying on his side, with his arms laying side by side, and legs spread apart.

''Eh. He'll be fine.'' John looked back the TV, just in time to see the same person on the screen, get hit with another anvil.

It was nightfall when Ringo regained consciousness. He sat up on his palms, head practically spinning after what happened hours earlier.

''What happened?'' the drummer asked himself. The drummer hazily remembered the event of what happened. Yes, now he remembered what occurred; no one was giving him any mind, and bottomless stomach George had gulped up his apple pie like it was nothing.

''Oh, the nerve of them...'' Ringo growled, standing back up. The drummer thought of something. He thought how his band mates had every nerve to ignore him. He needed to teach them a lesson... A lesson that will bound them up and pay attention to him.

_Yes, 'bound'... _Ringo thought, rubbing his chin. But he needed a plan first, Ringo scowled.

_Bound... Bound... _Ringo kept on thinking. _Hmmm... maybe bound will work on them._ Ringo let out a small smile... a chilling one.

Ringo thought up a plan perfectly, bit he needed some supplies for that to work.

''Ouch... John!'' Ringo heard a loud moan from one of the rooms in the hallway. ''John! More...'' Paul moaned again.

Ringo raised a brow, evilly. He knew he had to reach first; that lazy hard-head, John.

* * *

_I'm off from my Writer's Block. For a bit. _

_Moral of the story; don't ever eat Ringo's apple pie._

_Peace._


	3. Chapter 2A

_Chapter Two of BDSM Beatles_

The next afternoon, Ringo came through the door, holding some large bags he received from shopping at the market. The bags looked like any ordinary grocery market bags, only they were different.

Ringo walked into the kitchen in front of the table, setting the bags down. Ringo smiled, but smiled devilishly. He reached into the bags, taking out the contents inside and laying them on the table. First, three coils of thick rope, so thick enough, not even the sharpest of knives can cut through. Ringo smirked. From what he can see, he knew his plan was going to work. Next, Ringo pulled out another three coils of what looked like rope, but it wasn't. The other three were coils of bendable, metal wire.

He set them in front of himself, the three coils of rope were set vertically on the left, and the wire on the right.

Ringo was lucky there was a dark shop in London that sold these items; the shop had so many things to choose from, it was impossible for him to decide out of! Ringo giggled like a little girl. Out of the next few bags, Ringo pulled out two boxes; one box was fine black while the other box was silver steel.

With sweet little twinkling fingers, Ringo opened up the first box, the black, and eyed wide as the moon as he looked inside. There were three black wide and thick strips, with the names of his mates on the side, and for the meaty part, red rubber balls sewed into the middle of each. Ringo still kept his smile on as he opened the other box, the silver. The drummer opened it up, to see a small, strange-looking, and silver gun. A tranquilizer gun sat preciously inside the box; however, it was fit to carry only one dart, contained with a sort of sleepy-knock-out substance inside.

With those set on the table, Ringo was now able to carry out his plan... His plan of getting back at his band mates for ignoring him. But how? Ringo put on a serious line on his mouth and cupped his chin. Ringo knew he was going to get to John first, but seriously, how? He bought the supplies needed, only thing was that he did not think the whole plan through. Ringo rubbed his temples in confusion. What was he going to do? How is he going to able to 'teach' his mates a lesson? How is he going to use these on them? The drummer looked at the table in front. In the middle, was a wooden table with three blood red apples. Ringo remembered! He had three of those apples left over after he made his apple pie; and it was the same apple pie that abyss-for-a-stomach George Harrison ate.

''Ugh..'' Ringo groaned.

A few minutes before anyone came back home, Ringo immediately took the time to think of what he was going to do. And he did. Just as the door in was about to be opened, opened by that hard-head John Lennon, who is struggling to get inside. Ringo immediately grabbed all the items, placed them back in their bags, reached his arms around them, and just the drummer was about to make his escape, John's voice called out to him.

''Hey, Rings, what are yeh' doin' ?''

_First half of chapter two. I figured this would take long, so I took the liberty to make this into two halves. We're only getting to the good part. _

_Peace._


End file.
